


Treppenhaus

by WrongDecision



Category: Geography (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Ch Germany, Ch Poland, CountryHumans - Freeform, Gerpol - Freeform, Look both of them are stupid and have difficulties communicating, M/M, Messy, Theres some drunk Poland in there but they're adults so dw, not hetalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25093885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrongDecision/pseuds/WrongDecision
Summary: After a messy break up neither Poland nor Germany have spoken in weeks.Germany is sure he hates him and doesn't want to see him again.Until, that is, a drunk Poland calls him at one in the morning, asking for a ride.
Relationships: Germany/Poland (Anthropomorphic)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Treppenhaus

**Author's Note:**

> Translations can be found in the end notes!

"I can't do this anymore. We just don't work."  
...  
"I'm sorry."

Words cut deep sometimes.  
They didn't even have to be specifically well worded to do so and maybe that made it worse.

How often had he looked at those two messages, hands shaking, barely holding in tears?  
How often had he ended up crying anyways, since?  
The answer was: more times than he wanted to admit.

"I can't do this anymore. We just don't work."

Not like he had given them a chance to, had he?  
He had tried everything he could think of to save their relationship, turned every phrase, every sentence before speaking them out loud.  
Germany had tried to do his best to understand what it was that stood between them and yet, Poland never seemed to want to fix whatever had gone wrong.

"I'm sorry."

No, he wasn't.  
Otherwise he would've told him in person and not text him two measly messages, not even specifying what he meant, after avoiding him for over a week.

Germany sighed and put his phone away, staring at the unopened bottle of beer on the TV table.  
He debated wether to drink or not while the YouTuber on screen babbled absolute nonsense.  
Something about cancel culture and drama.  
Germany turned off the TV.  
Playing with the bottle opener, a cute cow shaped one he had gotten from Switzerland a while back, he decided to let the bottle be for now.  
Not that one beer would have hurt, but he wasn't in the mood for any kind of food and drinks right now.  
He lied back down, staring at the ceiling.  
His break up with Poland had been a little more than a month ago.  
He hadn't heard from him since, so those stupid few words were still what he saw whenever he scrolled down his contact list on WhatsApp.  
He hoped he was doing alright, but at the same time he wished Poland was feeling as awful about this as he did.  
God knows he deserved it after that.  
Germany didn't even know why he was still torturing himself by looking at the texts, wishing he'd just stayed upset, like he was after first getting them.  
He had been angry, hurt, resenting and almost hateful but after about two weeks of being pissed he went back to just being sad.  
Which he found very rude, he was supposed to find acceptance after going through some of the grieving stages or something like that.

Of course the bottle opener didn't hold his attention for too long, so he picked up his phone again and opened the chat.  
Like almost every night.  
There they were, those stupid words.  
After a few seconds Germany started typing.  
"Hey, how are you"  
No, that just seemed weird and unfit.  
Delete.  
"Did you fall in a ditch and die? I haven't seen you around anywhere."  
That wasn't at all as funny as he hoped it would be, so this wouldn't be sufficient either.  
Delete.  
"I miss you"  
...  
Ha, right as if he would ever send that.  
Delete.  
Delete, delete, delete.  
Like always.  
He had just started typing out another message when the little "online" symbol popped up under Poland’s name.  
Germany barely managed to catch his phone from hitting the metal built of his TV table when he shot up into a sitting position.  
He barely moved then, just focused on the little letters.  
Funny, it was pretty late at night.  
Hopefully Poland hadn't seen that he was writing him.  
Then again...  
Who was he kidding.  
They hadn't talked in a month, his contact was probably buried under at least ten others.  
Probably didn't care either way.  
Relaxing a little, Germany started erasing what he had started to write out last.

"Online" changed to "typing...".

He didn't even hear the dull thud when his phone hit the carpet.  
He was going nuts.  
That was it.  
There was NO way that Poland was thinking about him at the same time.  
And opened their chat. And started typing.  
Nein, nein, nein. No way. Absolutely not.  
He glanced over the edge of the sofa and was relieved to find the status back to online.  
And then, right when he was about to relax, a block of text popped up on his screen.  
He stared.  
Then stared some more.  
Germany pulled his legs up onto the sofa, without picking up his phone, heart thundering against his ribcage.  
After almost six weeks of radio silence, Poland had written him.  
He couldn't look.  
Already, there was this stupid hint of hope that crawled up from the pits of his stomach.  
Maybe their relationship, their friendship, wasn't completely lost.  
Maybe Poland also opened their chat every now and then, trying to find the right words, anything to say to him.  
Maybe-  
No.  
He'd just get disappointed.  
Poland probably somehow knew about him staring at the texts and opening their chat all the time and was going to tell him to stop.  
Yes, that was it.  
Just as Germany decided to just leave his phone there and disappear into his bedroom, it started vibrating.  
And didn't stop.  
Germany looked down.  
"Eingehender Anruf von: Polen", it read.  
He was calling him.  
Death. That's what he wanted in that second and he was sure his poor heart would grant him his wish.  
He picked up.  
"NIEMCY!"  
The loud yell was followed by a bunch of Polish gibberish that was too slurred for the German to understand even a single word, the loud music and other noises in the background didn't help.  
With despair he realized Poland was drunk.  
Of course he'd get a drunk call from an ex.  
Still, he'd picked up.  
Might as well get it over with.  
"Poland, I have absolutely no idea what you just said."  
His voice was NOT shaking. It was NOT.  
There was stunned silence on the other end, until...  
"Oh, I missed your voice."  
His throat closed up and his stomach did that stupid flip it always did when Poland said things like this.  
That hadn't been a translation of before’s nonsense but more of a spur of the moment confession, Germany realized, as Poland sounded just as confused as he felt.  
'Atmen, Deutschland.'  
He managed to press out a quiet: "Why are you calling me at one in the morning?"  
Again, the polish country took a moment to answer, sorting out his thoughts and translating them into English, Germany guessed.  
"I can't drive home. Too drunk, barkeep won't let me leave without someone picking me up. Could you...?"  
Germany blinked.  
They hadn't spoken in WEEKS and now Poland called him like nothing ever happened and expected him to go get him, probably from the other side of town?  
He should just hang up.  
He should be upset and angry, tell him to not call him again.  
Ever.  
"... Sure", he sighed. "Where are you?"  
"You are the best!"  
Poland gave him the address and then hung up just as abruptly as the call had started.  
Germany stared at the clock and then at the keys in the door.  
He could hear the soft rain drum against his windows if he listened close enough.  
Poland would have to figure out how to get his car tomorrow.  
There was no way he was taking public transport.

The bar was stuffed full of loud people yelling at each other, playing darts or billiard and generally drinking.  
Germany frowned.  
He wasn't opposed to any of this usually, liked to go drinking with friends, too, but the general situation was thinning out his nerves already and the cacophony of noises didn't make his nervous stomach any less sick.  
This also meant he had to go look for Poland.  
He just hoped he had stayed at the bar. Maybe the barkeep he had mentioned in the phone call kept him busy.  
Germany walked through the crowd more or less successful, trying to find his way to the bar, while the flickering lights seemed to try their best to disorient the visitors.  
Some people stepped out of his way and some he had to go around or shove lightly if the former wasn't sufficient.  
Finally, he spotted the long table that reached around a black pillar with attached cupboards, stacked with colorful drinks and glasses.  
Germany walked around one side of it and then...  
There he was.  
Poland was in fact still sitting at the bar, lights flickering and changing on the white feathers of his neatly folded wings turning them red, blue, green, purple.  
He was grinning widely and seemingly joking around with the barmaid that was refilling someone’s drink, leaned forward, chin resting on one hand, his other gesticulating wildly while he was describing something.  
Every now and then his wings would fluff up a little in excitement but fold back again right after.  
Germany swallowed thickly.  
Hearing him on the phone had already been bad enough.  
Seeing him carefree and happy while he himself had to fight a constant up and down of emotions the past weeks was...  
'Hurt' definitely wasn't a strong enough description of what he was feeling.  
There was a small voice in Germany’s head, telling him to turn around and walk away, that he didn't have to do this and that it would only end in more hurt.  
But he'd gotten good at ignoring logical thinking recently.  
So, instead, he kept walking and stopped a few steps away from his former friend.  
What now?  
Poland hadn't noticed him yet and he really had no idea how to approach him.  
He had too little and too much to say at the same time.  
Before he could do anything, though, the barmaid had spotted him and smiled.  
"Can I help you?"  
"No, I-"  
Poland turned his head.  
"Germany!"  
His wings flapped once and he swayed a little in the bar stool, grin so wide Germany was surprised it didn't hurt.  
"Hey", he replied lamely.  
Poland turned back to the woman, human as far as he could tell.  
"This is my friend I told you about!"  
There was a short sentence in Polish that she seemed to understand and then he added: "Guess I gotta go now!", and jumped down, only to topple over.  
Germany managed to get a hold of his shoulder just fast enough to prevent him from hitting the floor face first.  
Helping him stand up straighter, he shook his head.  
"Przepraszam", Poland murmured. "I'm drunk."  
"You're not drunk, you are WASTED."  
The country giggled at Germany's slightly indignant tone of voice.  
Germany turned to the woman.  
"Excuse me, is his tab still open?"  
She nodded.  
"He wasn't really able to look through his things."  
"Alright."  
Still holding onto Poland’s shoulder, he reached out and careful not to disturb any feathers, pulled the other country’s wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, earning a surprised squeak from him.  
"Sit down."  
He gently pushed Poland to sit back onto the barstool.  
"Mnn, I like it when you boss me around", Poland purred.  
Germany froze for a second, heart in his throat, but then decided to ignore the comment and look through the different wallet compartments.  
Thankfully, he found cash instead of just cards.  
"Here you go. That should be enough. Could we have some water to go, too, please?"  
She looked surprised at the big tip and nodded questioningly towards the drunk country.  
Germany shrugged.  
"Take it, you've practically been babysitting for the past hour or more."  
The barmaid smiled, pocketed some of the extra and then went to get them a water.

"Niemcyyy, that's not where my car iiis!"  
"Stop whining, I came with my own."  
Poland was half leaning against Germany, half walking by himself.  
He wasn't pass-out drunk yet but he had definitely had enough alcohol for the night.  
His wings were folded again to not be in their way, but the German wondered why he didn't use them as support instead.  
"Oof, that's cold."  
Germany didn't reply.  
"You know I always thought you looked hot when you're angry..."  
He stopped abruptly.  
Poland didn't, so he ran straight into the other, letting out a surprised gasp and stumbling over Germany's foot.  
Germany caught him again, holding his arm.  
It hurt.  
Somehow every weird compliment or flirty remark hurt just as much as his idiotic break up text had.  
He didn't know what he expected or why he even agreed to this in the first place.  
But this had been a bad decision.  
"Ger-"  
"No. Just-!"  
For a moment he thought about getting angry at him and asking why, but he decided against it.  
Clearly this whole situation was a joke to Poland.  
He breathed out slowly, shaky.  
"Just be quiet and get your legs under control. It's bad enough that you chose a bar an hour away from your house. Just leave me be."  
He pulled Poland into a more upright position so he'd be able to walk by himself, then let go of his arm and hoped he hadn't heard the strain in his voice.  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Poland rub his arm where he had gripped it to catch him.  
Maybe he'd been a bit too rough...

Poland was quiet the rest of the way to the car and eventually started walking a little easier by himself, although Germany still made sure he didn't fall or accidentally walk onto the street.  
They reached the car park eventually and now Poland just looked tired, both of them soaked from the rain.  
Germany opened the car door for him, maneuvering him inside mindful of his wings and then pushed the water bottle into his hands.  
"Drink up."  
Then he went to pay for the ticket.  
He took a little longer, made sure there was no one around and he wasn't visible from his car and then sat down against the wall of the emergency exit.  
This was a little too much and he needed a moment of silence.  
Poland was sitting in his car.  
He was going to drive him home.  
Poland had flirted with him a few times the past twenty minutes.  
Like they never broke up. Like there hadn't been radio silence for 6 weeks.  
Germany pulled on his short hair to get his thoughts back under control.  
Okay.  
This was likely the last time this happened.  
Maybe they could go back to being friends after another few months or so but Germany wasn't sure if he wanted that.  
For now all he had to do was drive Poland home, not have a break down and then go home himself.  
He could cry and be hurt and upset and angry then. Or on the way back already.  
He could do this, this wasn't too hard.  
Another few deep breaths.  
Then he got up.  
He threw in the coins for the ticket and went back to the car, where Poland was nipping on the water bottle and looking at his phone.  
As soon as Germany opened the driver side door, he flinched and hastily clicked away whatever he was doing on the screen.  
Not that Germany cared.  
He was about to start the motor, hand already on the gearshift, when he felt Poland’s fingers brush his.  
He looked up and found him facing away from him.  
"Thanks for picking me up."  
"No prob-"  
Germany stopped himself.  
Yes problem. Big problem.  
"You're welcome", he replied instead.  
Poland took his hand back and immediately Germany felt like he had lost all over again.  
The motor roared to life and the orange BMW left the car park.

The rain drummed against the windows and roof of the car in an almost purposeful pattern.  
Poland had passed out immediately after they started driving, so Germany had plenty of time to think to himself.  
Or staring.  
He'd been watching the other whenever he could safely take his eyes off the road for a moment.  
He didn't look so well, tired mostly.  
But he'd always looked tired and it could just be the alcohol making it worse now.  
He remembered Poland’s sleeping problems all too well.  
They'd spent many nights awake, talking, drinking.  
He doubted it had changed since they broke up.  
Germany smiled to himself when he remembered that Poland had told him it was easiest to sleep in the car because there was always movement and light and noises.  
Of course he'd sleep now.  
Maybe...  
Germany checked again, waving a hand in front of the other country to make sure he really was asleep.  
Maybe he could get some things off of his chest now? Things he had wanted to say to him but didn't want to hear anything about from the other.  
He swallowed in an attempt to get rid of the anxiety the thought brought.  
"I don't understand what went wrong. You never said what bothered you and you didn't even specify when you bro... when you sent that text. I hated you for that for a while. And I was incredibly hurt."  
Germany focused on the road, not brave enough to even look at Poland.  
"Still am."  
He drove for another while, listening to the others soft snoring, before returning to talking.  
"I don't get how you were so... normal... earlier. Were we never serious to you? Is that why you just ghosted me until now because I'm not even an important person to you outside of our relationship? I- I was serious. I thought we'd stay together for, maybe not forever, that's ridiculous I know, but at least... longer."  
Thinking about all the times they'd told each other their thoughts and worries and comforted each other... Had he interpreted too much into it?  
He took a shaky breath, feeling himself tear up and sniffling for a moment, until he got himself back under control.  
Germany didn't notice the snoring had stopped a bit ago.  
"I miss you so incredibly much..."  
He had more to say but the more he spoke the more drained he felt and he still had about 20 minutes to drive.  
So he kept quiet.  
He also didn't see the way Poland’s fingers tightened their grip on the sleeve of his jacket.

When they arrived it was 3 in the morning and the light rain had turned into a full blown thunderstorm.  
Poland had started moving again in the last ten minutes as Germany had driven off the high way and into the outer part of the city he lived in.  
He was now fumbling with his keys and seemed to be anxiously rubbing over the metals.  
Germany pulled into the small, open garage at his house and cut off the motor.  
It was pouring buckets and Poland looked out into the night, probably dreading the run to the front door as the garage was a bit away and the walk way before it prevented Germany from bringing the car closer.  
"So... That's it, huh?"  
Poland’s voice was rough, possibly from the alcohol and sleep and Germany couldn't prevent the shiver that ran down his spine. Or the yearning to have the times back when he would get to listen to this specific tone every morning.  
"Yeah."  
Poland nodded. He seemed to have sobered up since the bar and if Germany’s cold shoulder and the water he got him hadn't done so, the freezing rain likely would in a moment.  
"Thanks. For the ride. And for dealing with me."  
Germany hummed. There was nothing he wanted to do more right now than lean over and kiss him goodbye but he kept it together.  
"I'll... I'll be going then."  
Poland gripped the door handle, but didn't leave.  
"Yes?"  
"I was thinking- it's so late already and..."  
He shot a quick glance at the German.  
"I mean if you want to-"  
Germany held his breath. Was he going to invite him to stay over?  
Poland tried again.  
"Uh. I wanted to say-"  
His shoulders slumped.  
"Never mind."  
And then he opened the door and left.  
Germany felt like he was deflating.  
He watched out of the window as Poland stood there for a moment, garage still protecting him from the rain, and then taking off, sprinting towards his front door, wings folded over his head as minimal protection.  
This had been the last chance, Germany was sure of it.  
Poland had stumbled over his words, maybe waited for him to say anything. But all he had done was give him one-word answers and the cold shoulder again.  
It was for the best, he tried to tell himself. He would've just gotten his hopes up and then would have been hurt all over again.  
But why did it feel like he just shot himself in the leg then?!  
Actually he would've preferred that to the horrid feeling of dread and deep sadness.  
He gently slapped his own cheek to get his attention back to the facts.  
It was 3 am, it was storming and raining like all hell broke loose and he hadn't slept yet. Home was a bit longer than an hour away.  
Five more minutes, he thought. Or ten.  
He'd stay in the car to get his concentration back in line and then drive home.  
Maybe take a quick nap in the car before.  
Germany sighed and closed his eyes.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCKNOCKNOCK!

Germany shrieked and jumped forwards, almost hitting his head on the steering wheel.  
He took a second to catch his breath and looked out of the window.  
Stood there was a very guilty looking Poland, mouthing an apology.  
A very guilty looking, soaking wet Poland, rain literally running down his face and dripping off of his hair and wings.  
Germany stared back, a little confused, while trying to calm down from the sudden shock.  
He let down the window.  
"Yes? What's wrong?"  
Poland seemed unsure for only a moment, then smiled awkwardly, holding up his hands.  
"I can't open the door..."  
Germany blinked.  
And then he blinked again.  
"You... can't open the door."  
"Yes. I... my hands shake too much."  
He shoved them in Germany’s direction to make a point.  
They were shaking but it didn't look that bad.  
But then again, who was he to judge that, Poland was probably still plenty of dizzy from the alcohol.  
Sometimes that alone made it hard enough to get keys into a lock.  
"Do-"  
He looked out into the pouring rain, squinting when the sky lit up with lightning.  
Sighing he turned back.  
"Do you want me to help you open it?"  
Poland nodded, looking just a little guilty.  
"That'd be nice, yes."  
Germany nodded, closed the window again and got out, locking the car behind him, more out of habit than necessity.  
Poland stepped aside but not too far and Germany awkwardly noticed that they were almost touching like this.  
He ignored the need to get closer.  
The rain was still hammering against the roof of the garage, thunder rolling over the houses close to them.  
Of course he had left all of his rain gear at home.  
"Fine. Give me your keys."  
Poland did, and Germany could swear he let his hand linger just a second longer than he usually would have.  
He was going to go insane like this.  
No matter. He'd unlock the door and then go home. Maybe the rain would wake up his senses a little.  
Without another thought he ran, the other country close on his heels.

The driveway wasn't that long.  
Yet, he was just as soaked through as if he'd just swam over.  
His shoes made an awful squishing sound whenever he took a step and the water had gotten through to his socks, too, which in his opinion, was one of the worst sensations ever.  
There probably wasn't a single dry spot on him right now.  
He could hear Poland pant behind him, after all he'd run the way thrice and the wet wings were heavy.  
Germany stepped towards the door, raising the keys and fumbling to find the right one.  
The first two tries of getting it into the lock actually failed and now Germany understood Poland’s dilemma a little better.  
Nevertheless, with some concentration, he managed to get it right.  
"Third's the charm", he mused and handed the keys back to their owner, holding the door open so that it wouldn't immediately lock again.  
"Thank you..."  
Poland somehow didn't look happy about it.  
Germany now noticed his left hand, that he had started to claw into his jacket.  
A nervous tick of his, he knew.  
So far he had not made any attempt to go inside  
"Okay, then. I'll go back. Have a good-"  
With an audible 'Flap!' the wing to Germany’s side unfolded, effectively blocking his way.  
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.  
Poland seemed to take a deep breath.  
"You're staying."  
Germany frowned.  
"What?"  
"I mean you're staying here. For the night. I don't want you to go."  
His heart stopped.  
"B-because you'll get a cold or fall asleep while driving, of course."  
Of course. It's not like either of them wanted to actually be around the other.  
Germany started chewing on his tongue and was about to protest, but instead ended up shaking himself when a chill ran through his entire body.  
"You'll get sick and I don't want to be at fault for that, since you're only out because of me in the first place."  
Poland stepped closer and carefully wrapped his fingers around the other countries wrists, wing still out as if he was scared he'd run away if he folded it again.  
This was too much, Germany felt like his mind was short circuiting.  
If he was being honest, he was very tired and cold and he didn't have the energy to further protest. This entire night had been one weird or upsetting thing after another and he really just wanted to lie down.  
When Germany didn't pull back, Poland started gently pushing him back into the house.  
'One more time. And then I move on.'

The next few minutes were somewhat of a blur between being brought into the bathroom and getting spare clothes and a towel from Poland and drying off.  
It was strange and only made him feel more like this was all some weird dream that he'd wake up from any minute now.  
But he didn't.  
When his mind finally caught up to the exact happenings he found himself sitting at the square dining table, a mug of tea in front of him that vaguely smelled of flowers and fruit.  
Poland was rummaging around in the kitchen.  
"What am I doing here..."  
He looked around the dining space that connected to the living room.  
Not much had really changed, all the furniture was the same, but Germany noticed that the pinboard with their photo collection was gone.  
Not surprising. He'd also taken all the stuff down that reminded him of their relationship.  
He turned back around, quietly sipping at his tea.  
It was good and he realized he hadn't actually drunken any in a while.  
He mostly lived on coffee.  
Germany looked up when Poland stepped out of the kitchen.  
He was holding another mug and stopped in the doorframe when he noticed him staring.  
For some reason he looked guilty.  
They kept eye contact for what felt like minutes, before Germany spoke up.  
"What is going on with you?"  
Poland seemed to shrink into himself.  
"I, uh, didn't want you to drive this la-"  
"No, that's not what I meant."  
They were silent for another moment, Germany waiting for an answer that didn't come.  
"Why did you call me?"  
"I needed someone to pick me up."  
"Yes, I know, but why did you call ME?"  
He fiddled with his mug, hand in his sweater now.  
"I wanted to... No one else was going to..."  
He sighed.  
"I wanted to hear your voice. And see for myself that you're okay."  
Germany said nothing and eventually looked away.  
"You never answered me, I was worried."  
The Germans head whipped back around.  
"I never answered to what exactly?"  
Poland flinched when Germany stood up abruptly.  
"The ghosting for about a week in which I didn't hear ANYTHING from you?! You breaking up with me? Or maybe the lack of an explanation?!  
Is that what you mean? What I never answered to?"  
"Yes, I-"  
"Do you know how devastating that was? I don't hear from you in forever, you don't text me back or pick up my calls and then the next time I hear from you, you tell me it's over! I worried so much! And then you never even EXPLAIN yourself! You- You didn't even give me a chance to understand..!"  
Germany’s voice broke and he took a shaky breath in, furiously wiping at his eyes.  
When he looked up again, Poland looked like he had slapped him.  
His wings were closely pressed to his body, almost shielding himself with them and he noticed the barely there shaking.  
Germany felt bad the instant he realized he had gotten loud.  
He turned to push in his chair.  
"I'm sorry, I... I'll go. Thanks for the tea."  
He shoved away the drink, trying to move slowly but too confused and emotional to really control his movements.  
"No!"  
"No?"  
Germany suddenly found himself face to face with Poland.  
He had lifted his wings in an attempt to seem bigger, feathers fluffed so that his wings seemed almost spiked.  
His voice was shaking but he sounded hurt.  
"You don't get to be upset at me and then just leave!"  
Germany felt his temper rise again, any pity and shame gone in an instant.  
"I'm sorry?! I don't get to be upset?! Did you hear what I just said? Did you- You know what, forget it! I don't have to have this stupid conversation! It's 3 am and I don't even know why I helped in the first place!"  
He turned and tried to storm off but Poland caught his arm and tugged him back, jabbing one finger into his chest.  
"Then at least fucking say it!"  
"Say WHAT?!"  
"That you hate my guts so I can move on with my life! Ugh, I just... Kurwa no, I'm sick of this!"  
At first, he didn't answer.  
Germany just looked at him with wide eyes, confused and irritated.  
"I don't... What?"  
Poland didn't catch on to his confusion. Instead he seemed to get more upset.  
"Don't WHAT me! Get it over with! Come on! You've been making clear how you feel about me ever since I sent those stupid messages!"  
"Those stupid messages... Poland, what are you TALKING about?!"  
"You..!"  
Poland yelped for air, only now noticing that his breath had been too quick and short in his anger.  
He tried to breathe in and out calmer and after a moment he got himself under control again, Germany looking at him with worry, but keeping his hands to himself despite having the need to do something.  
When Poland finally managed to look at him again, he seemed to have lost his aggression, leaving him with a tired and hurt expression instead.  
"You hate me. That's why you didn't even answer to that text. I wasn't even important enough to you to get anything back, a 'why' or protesting or just a goodbye..."  
Frozen in shock, Germany watched as tears welled up in the other’s eyes.  
"I... I regretted those texts the day after I sent them but I couldn't take them back, I already said them, so I hoped you'd write something and I could agree and 'change my mind'."  
Poland let one of his arms drop, the other remained where he had jabbed at Germany.  
He flattened out his hand so it was pressed against his chest instead.  
Wanting contact but not wanting to say anything so Germany wouldn't push it away.  
"I waited for a few days thinking maybe you just needed time, but you didn't answer and then it was over a month and the others said you were fine and acting normal and..."  
He breathed in deeply, trying to keep the tears at bay.  
Unsuccessfully.  
"I don't blame you. I know I was difficult in the weeks leading up to this and I'm needy and b-broken. I know I kept you awake so many nights and annoyed you with my nightmares and insecurities but I was hoping you might mean it when you said you l-loved me no matter what..."  
Germany slowly reached up, putting his hand over Poland’s.  
In his fingertips he could feel his heart hammering fast against his ribcage, so he knew Poland did too.  
Poland looked at their fingers and decided to be selfish. Even if he hated him, he could have this one more time, right?  
Turning his hand so that he could take Germany’s and then moving them a little lower, Poland leaned his forehead against the others chest.  
His next words were muffled through the fabric.  
"I got a kinda drunk today and got encouraged by the barmaid to call you, because she said she didn't think you hate me so I called you, but you've made pretty obvious tonight that I was right. Guess she owes me some money now, hah..."  
Germany had been trying to process what he was saying.  
He couldn't believe this was happening, this had to be some kind of hopeful nightmare hybrid.  
...  
But it wasn't, was it?  
He felt his heart break when Poland actually started quietly crying.  
"Hey..."  
He gently put his free hand on his back, next to one wing.  
He started drawing small circles under his shoulder.  
"Poland..."  
"Please let me stay like this for just a bit longer."  
"Poland, look at me."  
The serious tone made him look up after all, cheeks shining from the tears.  
Germany took his hand from his shoulder, balled it into the sleeve of the borrowed sweater and wiped some of them off, a fruitless task as Poland was still crying.  
"I don't hate you."  
"Liar."  
"Why would I lie?"  
"Because you aren't good with stuff like this?"  
"I could literally walk out the door and never talk to you again."  
"True but-"  
"I let you cry into my shirt."  
"Well technically it's MY shirt."  
"I drove twenty minutes to pick you up from some random bar without you even having to say please, after 6 weeks of absolute radio silence, and then drove another hour to your house and ran through the pouring rain just to unlock your door."  
Poland didn't have a good reply for that.  
"You did... Why?"  
"Definitely not because I hate you."  
Poland mustered him, trying to find any tell that he was lying. He didn't find anything.  
So he went back to burying his face in Germany's chest.  
The other country went over to petting his hair.  
"I was very hurt, you know."  
Poland squeezed his hand to tell him that he was listening.  
"You didn't answer me for a whole week before this. Why not?"  
"Anxiety... I was in a very bad place and I didn't want anyone around", was the dull reply.  
"I was guessing so... Still, that worried me. And then you wrote those things and... I debated to just drive over and start a fight or at least make you explain, but I thought you hated ME."  
He shook his head and replied something in polish that Germany interpreted as something along the lines of "Never".  
Germany couldn't help but feel relieved to hear this.  
Generally, he felt much calmer than he had for weeks.  
"And the longer you didn't explain the more I got the feeling it just wasn't important enough to you. You had been blocking my attempts to find out what would make us work better in the weeks leading up to our break up..."  
"I'm sorry I... was scared. That I'd try and it wouldn't change anything..."  
They stood there a moment longer in silence.  
"We're both really stupid, aren't we..."  
Poland chuckled.  
"Very."  
"My legs are dying."  
"Sorry."  
Poland let go and Germany moved his legs around a little, before looking down at Poland’s slightly crumpled up sweater.  
He stepped forward and pulled it straighter again, not missing the soft smile the other gave him.  
"So... are we... good? Again?"  
Germany shrugged.  
"I mean, you don't hate me, I don't hate you... It'll take some time for me to get over some of the things that happened, though. Six weeks of being sad will do that to you."  
Poland nodded and then pushed his hands off.  
"I agree. I'm... sorry, for what I've put you through. And me. Us."  
"I know, I can see that. Don't worry. I am, too. I didn't mean to make you think I hate you."  
Germany looked at Poland’s hands, which were holding onto his wrists again.  
"But thank you for apologizing. I know it's not easy."  
Poland nodded and stepped closer, letting go for only a moment to then fiddle with the open buttons on Germany’s shirt, opening and closing them.  
Germany felt a shiver run down his spine when his nails barely brushed his throat while doing so.  
"You should probably change shirt again, I cried a lot."  
Poland’s voice was quiet and Germany wouldn't have noticed how close they were, had he not looked down at the wet stains and found their chests almost touching.  
"It's alright I don't mind", he replied, just as quietly. When he looked back up Poland seemed unsure about the proximity.  
"I don't know if this is appropriate at the moment but I've been thinking about this all evening..."  
Germany saw his eyes dart to his lips for a moment and suddenly he found himself back at the beginning of their relationship, three years ago, when he was nervously excited about everything they did.  
He could feel Poland’s breath against his throat.  
His fingers were still on the collar of his sweater and occasionally grazed his skin where it wasn't covered.  
Germany knew he was doing that on purpose.  
He met Poland’s eyes and, again, realized he'd gotten closer.  
"Just kiss me already", he breathed.  
Poland gripped his collar tightly and pulled him the rest of the way down to press their lips together.  
The force and passion behind it almost brought Germany to his knees. His hands shot forward to shakily pull Poland against him as close as he could, taking a surprised breath but turning his head to deepen the kiss with no hesitation.  
Holding Poland against him with one hand, he brought the other up to the base of one wing, gently running his fingers through the feathers.  
Both wings drooped to hang down to the ground and Poland hummed against his lips.  
They interrupted the kiss to catch their breath for just a moment.  
"You're playing dirty, Niemcy."  
Germany laughed softly, feeling light headed and bubbly.  
"What kind of awful boyfriend would I be if I didn't know which buttons to press, nie prawda, Polska?"  
Poland made a weird noises that sounded like somewhat of a mixture between choking and moaning.  
"Kurwa, uwielbiam, kiedy mówisz w moim języku"  
Germany frowned in concentration, trying to translate.  
"'Fuck, I like' ...no, 'really like speaking polish'?"  
Poland snorted and pulled him into another short kiss.  
"Keep practicing. That was close. However... don't do that now, I'm not done with you yet!"  
"Oh? Neither am I"  
Smiling, Germany leaned down far enough so that Poland didn't have to pull on the sweater anymore, gently cupping his face between his hands.  
One of his thumbs started slowly brushing down his cheek until it stopped on his lips, tracing their shape and softly rubbing over them.  
Poland felt his breath catch in his throat, gasping, but then he returned his fingers into their original position on his cheeks.  
Poland held onto Germany’s wrists again, feeling his pulse quicken when he leaned even closer.  
He stopped right before their lips touched completely.  
"I missed you so much."  
Their lips brushed with every murmured word, but Poland was paying more attention to the meaning.  
"Hearing your voice again and having you touch me is incredible and I promise I will never hate you. Ever. Please talk to me about this next time."  
"Okay", he whispered back.  
And then Germany did kiss him.  
Poland closed his eyes, when their lips connected. It wasn't a rough kiss like Poland had given before but it wasn't lacking in passion.  
Poland felt his head spin when Germany pressed closer to him, tilting Poland’s head with gentle fingers. He did his best to reciprocate despite feeling like he was losing his ability to think, moving his mouth in tune with Germany’s, only the soft noises of their lips connecting again and again and their breath audible.  
He let go of Germany’s hands and wrapped his arms around his neck instead, moaning quietly into the kiss.  
Nothing had ever felt this right and nothing ever would again, he knew it.  
And to think he had almost fucked up their relationship was-  
Germany pulled him closer and he lost track of his thoughts.  
It didn't matter right now anyways.  
They were okay again, or they would be, and focusing on anything else wouldn't be right now.  
The only thing that mattered were the barely audible noises Germany made, his hands on Poland’s face, their lips connecting and the promise to never repeat what they'd been through.

Needless to say, neither caught a lot of sleep that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Nein = No
> 
> Atmen, Deutschland = Breathe, Germany
> 
> Eingehender Anruf von: Polen = Incoming call from: Poland
> 
> Niemcy = Germany
> 
> Kurwa no = Damn it
> 
> nie prawda, Polska = isn't that right, Poland
> 
> Kurwa, uwielbiam, kiedy mówisz w moim języku = Fuck, I love it when you speak my language
> 
> \--
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> This is my first fic for the CH fandom (I've written plenty of other stuff before this, though).
> 
> I hope this was fun to read!  
> I've made a cover for this (for the wattpad version) so if you want to see my CH art, find me on Instagram @budruhw!
> 
> Also a huge Thank You to F00lsville on Instagram for helping me with the polish!! ♡
> 
> Have a great day everyone!


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